“If they had removed her other glove, they would have seen a second tattoo on her right arm. The twin to the other. Inked last night, when we crept out, found a priestess, and I swore her in as my High Lady.” “Not—not consort,” Amren blurted, blinking. I hadn’t seen her surprised in … centuries. “Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court.”
Losing my fucking mindrn
